


Warmth

by raiyana



Series: The Dwelf series [27]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Dworin Week, Gen, M/M, Stubborn Dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: loftily posting this under 'Bad times' prompt, as it takes place sometime after BoA, while still wandering.Nothing bad actually happens, however.





	Warmth

Thorin was glaring at Dís, who was glaring at Thorin. Her teeth stubbornly did not rattle, though he knew she was chilled to the bone just like the rest of them, but she wouldn’t accept when he tried to give her his cloak. The hissed argument had devolved into a glaring contest, with no way to break the stalemate until either one of the siblings fell asleep despite the freezing temperature or one of their parents returned, an unlikely event considering the blizzard that raged outside their small cave. They had managed a meagre fire, but its heat was no more than a token resistance against the cold; only a few twigs had been the result of Thorin and Dwalin’s excursion into the blinding white hours earlier, trying to find at least a little fuel while not losing their way back to the cave. They had no food either, but that was a lesser concern compared to the cold.

 On the opposite side of the fire, Balin and Dwalin sat, staring silently at the flames, here, but not interfering in the dispute. The two brothers, now orphans, had refused to return with Dáin to the Iron Hills, staying with the King-in-Exile and his family instead of joining their aunt’s household. Sometimes, like tonight, Thorin thought it was the height of blind loyalty, staying with them, wandering homeless, instead of being cosy and _warm_ in Lady Rádveig’s sitting room next to a roaring fire. Other times, he wished they would never leave, the presence of his cousins helping to ameliorate the gaping wound that was Frerin’s absence in his life.

“Ay, Dís,” Dwalin rumbled, breaking the silent contest with his deep voice. Thorin looked up sharply. “Balin’s cold, come help me cuddle him warm, aye?” Staring amazed at the large hand that reached towards the small dwarrowdam, who was visibly shivering by now, Thorin’s awe increased when Dís _actually took Dwalin’s hand_ and let him pull her between the two larger bodies, Dwalin calmly wrapping his arm around both Dís and Balin to keep up the pretence.

_I love you._

The thought was clear as ice, sharp as crystal and almost left Thorin panting with the realisation. For a single infinite moment, he stared at the tableau across the sputtering fire, before the blood that was quickly flooding his cheeks with combined giddiness and mortification had him hide his face behind a curtain of dark hair. I love him. Thorin tasted the words, feeling them write themselves indelibly into his soul.

“Thoooooorin,” Dís called, by the tone not for the first time. Thorin’s head snapped up, for a second worried that he had muttered his realisation aloud.

“ **Kun** , Dís?” he asked, praying that the others would believe his flush cheeks were a result of the bite of cold in the air.

“Dwalin is cold.” She said, smugly. Thorin forgot how to breathe.

“Aye, ye’d best come warm me,” Dwalin agreed with a sleepy growl that did funny things to Thorin’s heart. Moving like a dwarf two centuries his senior, Thorin made his way to the other side of the small cave, settling his bedroll next to Dwalin. Climbing under the fur, he tried not to move.

“He’s doing it wrong,” Dís complained sleepily, and the next thing Thorin knew, Dwalin’s arm had snaked its way under his head and around his shoulders, pulling him tight against Dwalin’s side. Breathing in the musky scent of him made certain parts of Thorin’s anatomy perk up despite the cold and the hunger, and he knew by the way Dwalin’s thigh suddenly pressed against his groin that it had not gone unnoticed. He also knew no more would happen.

“Is this the right way, ma wee Princess?” Dwalin asked. Thorin enjoyed the way the sound rumbled in his chest.

“Mmhmm,” he vaguely heard his sister murmur as she snuggled down between the two older Dwarrow. Outside, the storm was abating slowly, and inside the cave the four Dwarrow lay in a snug pile of fur blankets, waiting for morning.


End file.
